


You Won't Steal My Heart

by midnightstarlightwrites



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Chat Noir steals from the rich to give to the poor, Chat Noir thinks he's Robin Hood, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Ladybug disapproves of his methods, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, No hawkmoth au, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Post-Reveal Pre-Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Robin Hood References, Slow Burn, UST and regular tension ensue, aged up AU, but Gabe is still around and still a dick, they already accidentally revealed themselves and it just made things WORSE and more complicated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-01-03 22:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21186902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightstarlightwrites/pseuds/midnightstarlightwrites
Summary: Furious, Marinette tore her gaze away from Adrien towards Alya instead. "Why would you do this to me?”Alya grinned, tapping her nose. “Because I see the way you two look at each other. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife. Girl I know all that ‘I hate him’ stuff is for show. You’re fooling nobody.”A wave of pure, unadulterated outrage stunned Marinette into silence. Sexual tension? SEXUAL TENSION?! As in tension of the SEXUAL variety?!She wanted to scream. No! No, it wasn’t sexual tension! It wasn’t that at all! It was regular-freaking-tension! It was the tension between two sworn enemies! Sexual tension?! Was Alya insane?!~A modern Robin Hood AU in which Chat Noir is a thief who steals from the rich and gives to the poor. He's turned his back on everything the Miraculous were meant to stand for...And Marinette refuses to fall in love with him.





	1. Chapter 1

“Don’t be mad ok?”

Marinette peered up at Alya from the other side of the table. She frowned around the straw of her milkshake, letting it go with a light pop and sitting back upright.

“Why would I be mad?” she asked, eyes narrowing at the guilty-yet-proud look on her best friend’s face and oh no she did not like that expression one bit. It meant Alya was surprising Marinette with something; something Alya most likely thought she’d like.

“Well I invited Nino here too,” Alya explained, glancing out at the rainy Parisian sky and taking a sip out of her freak-shake (Marinette had tried one once, and the resulting sugar high had made her promise Tikki to never have one again).

When Alya didn’t elaborate, Marinette slumped back in her seat with a relieved sigh. “Oh,” she shrugged. “That’s fine.” And it was. Their Friday Milkshakes were often reserved for just the two of them, checking in on each other, keeping up with the gossip. But exam season was upon them and they were all seeing less and less of each other. Marinette couldn’t blame Alya for wanting to see as much of Nino as she could. They were together after all.

She didn’t factor in that Alya could be lying to her by omission.

The next few minutes were spent caught up in the latest school scandal (Kim deciding to put his flip flops up on the table by Alix’s food which began the start of what now looked to be another Great Prank War) when the bell above the door rang and a rush of cold air swept through the cafe.

Two people, not one, quickly shut the door behind them as they shook off the remnants of the dreadful weather.

Nino and Adrien wiped off the raindrops from their coats, playfully flicking them at each other and laughing the way teenage boys do over things others find completely incomprehensible. Alya waved them over, and Adrien’s eyes met Marinette’s.

He froze.

All at once, Marinette’s afternoon went from mundane to downright unbearable.

Her fingers gripped her milkshake so tightly, she was surprised the glass didn’t shatter. Furious, she tore her gaze away from Adrien towards Alya. “Just Nino, huh?” she hissed between her teeth as the boys approached. “Why would you _do_ this to me?” she meant it to sound more threatening, but instead it came out more like a pathetic whine.

Alya grinned, tapping her nose. “Because I see the way you look at each other. You can cut the sexual tension with a knife. Girl I know all that _‘I hate him’_ stuff is for show, you’re fooling nobody.”

A wave of pure, unadulterated outrage stunned Marinette into silence. Sexual tension? SEXUAL TENSION?! As in tension of the SEXUAL variety?!

Marinette wanted to scream. No! No, it wasn’t sexual tension! It wasn’t that at all! It was regular-freaking-tension! It was the tension between two sworn enemies! Sexual tension?! Was Alya _insane?!_

She didn’t have time to respond, as Nino leaned down to kiss Alya in greeting, sliding his arm around her and flushing when Alya whispered something in his ear. Marinette couldn’t even tease them, she was so rocked by the revelation that Alya thought her and Adrien’s tension was- was-

UGH.

“Is this seat free?” Adrien asked quietly.

Marinette scowled at him. “You think everything is free, might as well take it like you do everything else,” she snapped under her breath, sliding across the booth so she was pressed right up against the window, as far away from Adrien as she could possibly be.

She missed the way his face fell. Wouldn’t have cared if she _had_ seen.

The table fell into the kind of awkward silence only achieved by people trying to pretend that everything was normal and that absolutely nobody present wanted to commit homicide.

Marinette, in all her stubbornness, refused to say one word. She had a few pretty choice ones that were unbecoming of a superhero such as herself, and it was upset Tikki if she were to use them. So, she kept quiet, staring out at the rain instead. Her mood worsened with every moment and whatever waves of anger and betrayal she was giving out must have been felt by everyone at their booth. Especially with Nino, who was trying to make jokes in an increasingly high-pitched, hysterical voice.

“So…this weather sucks huh?” Alya tried, and got the sound of Marinette slurping her straw loudly as a result.

“It kind of sucks, yeah but also doesn’t. Father had to cancel my outdoor photoshoot today, which is why I get to hang out here, which is…good,” Adrien replied, sounding cautious, sounding like he didn’t want to offend. Which was ridiculous. His very existence was an offense to her- at least his alter ego was.

“It’s terrible,” Marinette grunted. “I hate the rain,” she added pointedly, her voice littered with subtext. Alya kicked her under the table, mouthing _be nice_ around her fist, which rested against her chin, effectively blocking her lips from view of the boys.

Marinette wanted to laugh. Be nice? Oh, if only Alya knew they were sharing their booth with a wanted criminal. She was sure she’d be singing a different tune if she’d been able to get the scoop on _that_ hot gossip.

After another painfully long silence, Nino turned to Alya, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “So,” he drawled out, “you wanna help me pick an ‘shake?”

“Sure!” Alya replied. Before Marinette could even blink, the two of them had disappeared, leaving her and Adrien alone.

Marinette turned and looked out the window again, her back to Adrien. She could just about see his reflection, blurred around the edges as the glass grew foggy. After all, she couldn’t trust him enough to fully turn her back on him, the way he’d done for her.

But then he began tapping his fingernails against the table. Over and over and over again. Marinette grit her teeth, mourning the loss of her milkshake, torn between ordering a new one just so she could throw it over his head, or ordering a freak-shake and to hell with the sugar hangover and Tikki’s wrath. Hell, she’d even go for wine at this point if she wasn’t dead certain Tikki would throw a total fit.

“Oh for the love of,” she grabbed Adrien’s hand to stop him drumming it on the table, ignoring the frisson of…fear? Whatever it was it made her heart jolt painfully and she all but threw Adrien’s hand from hers. “Is everything you do annoying?”

Adrien gave her a patented Chat Noir smirk and oh no, she’d done it. She’d walked into the trap. “I don’t know Princess; it certainly seems to annoy you though. Which is delightful. You’re cute when I can see your flustered blush outside the mask. Did you know it reaches your ears?”

Ok. Forget the milkshake. Marinette wanted to throw the whole glass over Adrien’s stupid head instead- lawsuits and blacklists in the fashion industry be damned.

“What do you want, Adrien? Why are you even here?” She sighed, almost letting her weakness, her exhaustion show. “This place has nothing to steal.”

Adrien frowned, genuinely looking offended. “As if I would steal from the Marrons! They’re the cutest couple in town! They make _food!_ Where’s the harm in that?”

“There’s a harm in stealing from everyone!” she hissed, finally twisting to face him again, gearing up for the same argument they’d had a thousand times before. “It doesn’t matter if you’re stealing from the rich to give to the poor like some wannabe dude-bro Robin Hood, it’s wrong! It’s totally against everything the miraculous stands for.”

“Well maybe the miraculous rules need an upgrade,” Adrien huffed, somehow still sounding calm. But she knew him, the little twitch in his eyebrow, the glint of remorse in his eyes that he’d always kill a second later. He was agitated and Marinette knew it, but she’d long given up trying to win him over.

In fact, she didn’t know why she was even bothering.

“Excuse me,” she commanded, nudging Adrien enough so that he stood up. She caught a flash of surprise on his features when, instead of heading towards Alya like he must’ve thought, she marched for the door instead. Marinette didn’t even hear her friends’ protests, or Adrien’s even smaller one, before she stepped out into the downpour.

As soon as she was out of his presence, Marinette felt the same as she always did after they’d had one of their usual spats. A deep-seated melancholy masked by intense hatred and reproach. The rain was both cleansing and cruel, washing away her awful mood and mocking her.

The universe, she felt, mocked her.

Years ago, when she’d first gotten her kwami, she’d been so excited to meet Chat Noir. She’d been thrilled to meet the person who would be her partner. Crime had risen so much in Paris that the Guardian had decided to release the two most powerful miraculous to help temper it.

The excitement had quickly turned to disappointment, to anger, to a hurt that reached into her bones and found a home there, when she realised that Chat Noir’s way of dealing with crime was to _add_ to it.

He claimed to be a modern Robin Hood; stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. He claimed the wealthy criminals needed to be punished too and, whilst Ladybug agreed with him that all criminals deserved to be locked away, two wrongs didn’t make a right. Chat Noir had argued back that rich people were never held accountable for their actions, so the best way to serve them justice was to take away their precious possessions and sell them, giving the money to the people they exploited.

After a few failed attempts at catching wealthy criminals too, all of them ending in said wealthy people buying their freedom in one way or another, Ladybug had almost, almost been won over to Chat Noir’s side.

But then an accidental robbery-gone-awry/robbery-thwarted-poorly ended up with their pair locked in a closet just as the timers on their miraculous wore out. Their identities were revealed…

And Marinette had been so angered by the sheer hypocrisy of the son of the wealthiest man in Paris claiming to be a modern Robin Hood, that she’d vowed to hate him for all eternity and beyond. To think! She’d once even liked Adrien, once considered him to be a friend, to be- to be-

Well. It didn’t matter what she used to feel. She hated him now and that was that.

End of story.

The second she had enough evidence to put him away, she would. She’d get the miraculous back and give it to someone who wanted to do good, and not cause a little bit of chaos for the fellow rich bastards he kept company with. But now she knew how rich people worked, she had to be clever about it, had to bide her time, had to make sure there was no way Gabriel Agreste could bail out his Golden Child.

Rain continued to fall, goosebumps washed over her skin and her dark hair began sticking to her forehead. Her footfalls were heavy, righteous and determined. She stomped her way through puddles, back to her parents’ bakery where she could at least know some semblance of peace. Perhaps she could distract herself by actually studying for an exam. For once the call towards procrastination wasn’t there. As much as she was upset with Alya, she didn’t want to let loose her anger on her friend via her phone. She knew, deep down, that Alya’s intentions were pure, even if she’d been so far off the mark she might as well have on Jupiter.

Yes. Studying for her test on Monday. Actually getting some rest. She nodded to herself. That would be the best course of action to distract herself. And maybe getting a good night’s sleep for a change.

Her parents were too busy in the bakery to notice her running upstairs to their apartment, thank goodness as she wasn’t in the mood for lectures on how the city was too dangerous to walk home alone in, and so she set her sights on getting dry and getting a good few hours of studying done.

“Are you ok?” Tikki asked a little later, perched on the desk beside Marinette’s laptop with a tiny little knitted blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a giant cookie in her hands.

Marinette let her fingers clack against the keyboard for a few moments more before coming to a stop with a sigh. Running her fingers through her loose hair, she slouched back on her desk chair and stared at the ceiling. “Not really,” she replied in all honesty.

“Meeting Adrien always throws you off,” Tikki nodded gently, nibbling a little more at the cookie before continuing. “I wish you two could put your differences aside and be a team.”

“I wanted to be! He’s the one that wants to go on his ridiculous little fantasies of criminal-heroism!” Marinette waved her arms furiously. “I don’t understand, Tikki, he could be doing so much more. He could be fighting real crime! He could be with m- he could be mi- he could be my _partner!_” The rejection still stung, even after all of this time. “But he chooses to throw it all away.”

Tikki put the cookie down, a sign she was about to be dead serious, and wiggled towards Marinette’s laptop, careful not to sit on the actual keys.

“Perhaps there’s a way you could fix things? I don’t agree with how Plagg has encouraged this in Chat Noir, though he was always a kwami of chaos, and I definitely don’t approve of Chat’s behaviour. There have been worse miraculous wielders though. Maybe you could get to know Adrien, instead of fighting with Chat all the time. Befriend him.”

Marinette sighed again, turning away to stare at the window.

The thing was, her and Adrien hadn’t gotten off to the best start. Three years ago, when he’d first joined the school, there’d been some silly misunderstanding with some gum and Marinette had thought he was just another bully.

But then a chance meeting in the rain had occurred, and Adrien had offered her umbrella. There had been kindness there, real kindness, and something like vulnerability in his eyes. She’d reminded him of a delicate flower, too shy to open up, too nervous to fully bloom.

A crack of thunder and Marinette had felt something rather like love.

From that moment on, a tentative friendship had been growing. But then fate had struck. She’d met Chat Noir, she’d met her enemy, and her enemy had turned out to be the guy she’d slowly been falling for.

And instead of love, Marinette felt something rather like hate.

She shook her head, shoving down all the confusing emotions the same way she’d done for the past three years. “How can I even go about befriending someone who turned their back on me before our partnership had ever begun?”

“Maybe he regrets it?” Tikki suggested softly. “Otherwise, why would he have bothered showing up to the café today?”

Her phone rang. Alya was facetiming her.

“Girl! I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you’d actually run out like that!” at least Alya had the decency to look guilty.

Marinette gripped the phone lazily, slouching forwards and resting her chin on the desk. “You know how much I don’t like him, Als, why’d you do it?”

Alya huffed, her curls fanned out on what looked like her bed underneath her. “I just think that you two…you know. I don’t know what happened back then, or what Adrien did besides the gum incident so long ago, but since I’ve been with Nino I’ve been hanging out with him a bit more and- ok call me crazy or whatever- and all jokes aside about sexual tension, I honestly think you two would be perfect for each other.”

Almost dropping her phone, Marinette let out an indignant squawk, not unlike the sound a chicken makes when it’s about to spontaneously combust. “You think we’d be WHAT?”

Now that Alya was laughing, the blush spreading across Marinette’s face went from one of embarrassment to fury. “Well come on, it’s so obvious! First, you think he’s gorgeous.”

“He’s a model!” Marinette gaped. “I said he was a model!”

“Yeah, which means you noticed him being all model-y,” Alya’s grin was almost at Cheshire cat levels and it was doing nothing for poor Marinette’s blood pressure. What was with everyone wanting her and Adrien to make amends today? She was so caught up in her sulk-fest, she almost missed Alya carrying on. “Secondly, he’s not a bad guy. He’s actually really kind- and you know how quick I’d be to kick his ass if I thought otherwise. Third, you’re both total and complete dorks. There are loads of other reasons, but I can tell this makes you uncomfortable.”

“It does,” Marinette agreed, lifting herself up if only to nod vigorously. “It really does.”

“Well, I won’t force it,” Alya wrinkled her nose, clearly not liking the idea of letting sleeping dogs lie for a change. Still, she’d grown a lot in terms of pushing boundaries over the past three years. “But I will ask you to maybe just think about hanging out with us sometime? I don’t like you missing out and I especially don’t like being outnumbered by the boys. Boys are smelly, don’t you know?”

The tension lifted off of Marinette as the pair descended into childlike giggles. They ended the call with Marinette begrudgingly promising to try hanging out with them again, as long as Alya didn’t surprise her with any last-minute café surprises.

Truth be told she couldn’t ever see herself being friends with Adrien. At this point, Ladybug and Chat Noir were pretty much sworn enemies. She despised his choices. Chat’s attempts at fighting banter infuriated her. She was certain she hated him, or should hate him. There was no way they could be friends, let alone the thing which Alya had suggested, which Marinette wasn’t even going to dignify by naming, even in her thoughts. It was pure insanity.

But she could make peace with him enough to make their civilian encounters less unbearable, for her friend’s sake, for Tikki’s too.

Yeah… she could do that.

Maybe.

* * *

She was going to kill him. She was absolutely going to kill him.

Ladybug ran across the rooftops with murder on her mind and righteousness in her soul. The sky had cleared and the moon shined above her. On the streets below, flashing siren lights illuminated her path towards the gallery.

She’d been asleep for a measly half an hour, had gone to bed far earlier than she usually did, in the vain hope that she would actually wake up feeling refreshed. That had gone to hell when Tikki had woken her up, as a Google alert had popped up in the middle of her game of Kwazy Cupcakes, to let her know that there was a robbery occurring during the middle of an art auction.

Robbing a fancy art show. The exact kind of thing Chat Noir was known for.

Just like that, Marinette’s peaceful night of slumber was left to the sandman.

_Of course,_ she thought as the sounds of her drumming footsteps, her pounding heart and the screams of the sirens pierced her ears, _of course he’d ruin everything. _

He’d always ruin everything. Why Marinette had ever entertained, even for a moment, the idea of trying to be friendly with him, she’d never understand.

At last the gallery came into view and Ladybug swung down to meet the police at the front, immediately grabbing the second-in-command to assess the situation.

“The guests have been taken hostage,” the officer said glumly, and Ladybug’s eyebrows rose. A layer of frost settled on her organs, weighing her down with cold, numbing disbelief and dread. No. That wasn’t possible. Surely, he wouldn’t stoop so low?

“But Chat Noir has never taken hostages before,” she protested, confused by the thickness of the words on her tongue, how strange it seemed to be defending him. “Something’s not right here. Are we sure it’s Chat?”

“It’s always him at these fancy things,” the officer waved his hand dismissively. “We have negotiators ready and waiting to make contact. For this one, Ladybug, I suggest you stay back and let the professionals handle the negotiations. This is a very delicate situation.”

Ladybug bristled but, before she could make a protest or call him out on his patronising behaviour, the officer was ushered away.

She crossed her arms, tapping her foot like an inactive video game character. This wasn’t right. Chat didn’t do these sorts of things. He used his powers in a way that wasn’t good, but wasn’t entirely evil either! He always stole things to sell on the black market, giving the money to charity or directly to the poor and homeless. He always attacked the treasures of the richest and most corrupt people in the city, but he never took innocents hostages. The gallery was large and most likely filled with people whose only crimes included getting parking tickets or forgetting to brush their teeth one time. Not everyone there could be a criminal Chat wanted to target.

No. As much as Ladybug disapproved of his methods, as much of a hypocrite she believed him to be, she knew him. And he wouldn’t do this.

There was only one thing for it. She would have to sneak in and figure out what was going on herself.

Avoiding the gaze of police and rapidly gathering reporters alike, Ladybug snuck around the side of the building and, once she was sure she was out of sight, swung upwards onto the roof.

Only to run right into Chat Noir. Quite literally.

Unable to stop herself in time, Ladybug crashed into her foe and the pair tumbled to the ground with separate cries of shock.

Chat was the first to recover. “You know,” he grunted, “you could at least take me out to dinner first, my lady.”

Ladybug glared down at him, scrambling backwards until she was upright once more and dusting down the front of her recently upgraded super-suit, as if she was worried about catching a nasty disease Chat Noir was the sole carrier of.

“What are you doing here?” she huffed, “aren’t you meant to be down there”- she pointed down at the ceiling.

Chat Noir blinked at her. “I mean I was a guest sure, but I kind of decided to duck out once the hostage situation started.”

Ladybug didn’t know what to think. On the one hand, a small spark in her (the one she hadn’t been able to kill no matter how hard she tried) grew brighter at the knowledge that she’d been right. On the other hand- “So you weren’t a part of this?”

The look of sheer affront on Chat’s face was something to behold. It caught her off guard, did funny things to her stomach. “It’s a _charity_ auction. I was there goading the other guests with outbids so they’d get all competitive and pay even more money. Do you really think so badly of me that I’d steal from charity? Come on Bugaboo, stealing to give to charity is kind of my whole image!”

“Stop calling me those names!” Ladybug snapped, prodding him in the chest, hating the fact that he’d grown so much taller than her since they’d met when they were fourteen. “And, for the record, I’m not an idiot! I knew you wouldn’t do something like that. But the police sure do! So, ha!” she really didn’t know what point she was trying to make, but she sure was making it.

Continuing on his mission to annoy the ever-loving heck out of her, however, Chat Noir smiled fondly. “Ah, Ladybug, so you do have a soft spot for me. Defending my honour.”

“I wouldn’t defend you or your fake honour if my life depended on it,” she growled stomping away, the wind whipping up her hair in a dramatic fashion and she preened at the idea of looking so glamourous and cool for a change, before she tripped over her own feet. Blushing, she called over her shoulder. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to stop some criminals, something you should have been doing with me from the very start.”

Chat Noir was on her in an instant, grabbing her arm. “Wait! You can’t go in there! There’re so many bad guys in there and they all have weapons and stuff. You go in there by yourself and it’ll be a cat-astrophe! What about the hostages too?”

“I’ve been in hostage situations before, I know what I’m doing,” she shrugged him off, feeling heavy in his presence and ignoring what it meant. “Just go away Chat, you’re more interested in saving your own skin, riding on some hypocritical Robin-Hood high than actually getting in danger, actually facing up to the real problems this city has, the real reasons we got our miraculous in the first place. Face it, you’re a coward, and that’s fine. Be that way. But stop pretending you actually care about me and let me get on with my job.”

Chat winced and, for the briefest moments, she was worried she’d gone too far, been too harsh. But then a blank coldness settled over his features and he turned away.

“Fine. Whatever. I don’t have to listen to this,” he walked towards the edge of the rooftop and disappeared without another word.

Ladybug felt something catch in her throat. Disappointment twisted in her chest and she sighed. The wind dropped and she bit her lip.

“I hate you,” she whispered to the air where Chat had been, turning away and getting to work. “I do. I really do.”

She found a stairway, quickly taking out the criminal in charge of keeping a lookout and hiding his unconscious body in a cupboard. Sneaking down the stairs, she opened the doors to find herself on the first floor of the gallery, a circular space rather like a colosseum. The first floor she was on acted like a balcony of sorts, making it so you could see the lower floor and the grand glass dome high above them. The ground floor below was the gallery itself, and Ladybug could just about hear the sounds of the thieves below mumbling to each other, the muffled cries of the hostages. She got low onto the ground, creeping towards the railings, keeping an eye out for any more lookouts.

Unfortunately, Ladybug hadn’t looked hard enough. Someone yanked her upwards, back into the shadows, and trapped her in his arms and wrapping a hand around her mouth before she had the chance to say anything.

Before Ladybug could even think about hurling the enemy over her shoulder and breaking his ugly face, a familiar voice whispered in her ear. “Don’t panic it’s me.”

She struggled out of his grip, her mouth open wide. “Chat?” she whispered, “What are you doing here? I thought you’d left?”

“I did,” he whispered back, nervously glancing over her shoulder, around his, and then back down to the ground floor. “But there’s too many of them. I didn’t want you taking them on your own.”

“Oh how noble of you,” she sneered, crossing her arms. “I’ve done this without you before. I can do it again.”

“Look I’m trying to help you out ok?” he sighed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, “and that’s the thing, I never…I never got it ok? I always knew you helped stop crime but I always took you more as a friendly rival trying to thwart my schemes. My Sheriff Nottingham except you’re the good guy too.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes so hard they almost popped out of her sockets.

“But I never really understood how dangerous it was until I was a civilian in that situation ok? I never got how much you risk by doing this and I… I don’t want you to do it alone. I guess.”

Ladybug pressed her lips together, unsure of what to say, unsure if she should trust him, trust that he now wanted the thing she’d wanted for three whole years, before she’d forced herself not to want it anymore.

She looked away.

“Besides, these guys are stealing from charity, they deserve some justice Chat Noir style!” he added, punching his fist into his opposite palm with a wicked grin. “Come on Ladybug, truce? Just for one night. Then I promise I’ll go back to the old ways of stealing from the corrupt and giving to the poor and annoying you forever and ever and ever. Deal?”

He held out his hand. Ladybug glanced at it, then up to him, up to his eyes. They reminded her of storms, of umbrellas and raindrops. They reminded her of things she’d stopped hoping for.

Her heart jumped.

“Fine” she sighed, holding out a reluctant hand, praying this wasn’t a terrible idea, “For one night only.” She grasped her hand in his, shaking it, ignoring the sudden jolt of electricity shooting up her arm.

“Truce.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments on this fic so far! I hope you enjoy this next chapter...and things get a bit more illuminating! ;D

Chat Noir flopped onto his bed with a groan. Heat crept up his neck as his battle with (_with! Not against, with!)_ Ladybug replayed over and over again in his mind.

“Claws in,” he mumbled into his pillow, pressing his face further in as he de-transformed. He didn’t want to see the look on Plagg’s face.

There was no avoiding the little kwami of destruction, however. The sound of Plagg’s cackling filled the air and Adrien groaned again, this time with a more aggressive tilt to it.

“So,” Plagg elongated the word, as if he was trying to make this as slow and painful a progress as possible. “Working with Ladybug. It’s fun right?”

“Don’t,” Adrien whined, grabbing the pillow from under his face and transferring it to his torso instead. He flipped to the side, turning away from Plagg and curling around it. “Just don’t.”

“Why not? I told you it would be better to work with her from the start,” Plagg shot back. “And I was right. I told you, kid, I’m always right.”

Adrien was silent for a long time and, when it was clear he wasn’t going to engage in the conversation any more, Plagg huffed. “Fine, fine. It’s your choice as always. Just think about it ok?”

That’s what Plagg didn’t know. Adrien _had_ been thinking about it. He’d been thinking about it for the longest time, longer than he cared to admit. From the start, pretty much.

Ever since that fateful day when he’d received his miraculous, Adrien had been excited about the prospect of working with Ladybug. But then he’d remembered the promise he’d made; the things he’d said he’d never do. His hands curled into fists as he recalled them once more, the ache and the guilt twisting in his gut.

He’d broken his promise tonight.

And it felt… it had felt…

It had felt _amazing_. If he were honest. It had been incredible, working alongside Ladybug to stop the gang of no-good party-crashers. Every breath he’d taken had rushed to his head, adrenaline pumped through his body, electricity soared between them both as they ducked and dodged real bullets, when he’d jumped in front of Ladybug to protect her and she’d _smiled_ at him. More than exhilarating though, it had felt _right_. More so than anything ever had. Right to fight alongside her, right to protect her, right to stand up against criminals. With her.

He couldn’t ignore the way his heart yearned for it now, like it had been released from the box Adrien had locked it in.

Yet, even as his resolve strengthened, his gut twisted tighter.

“I want to be with- I mean I want to work with her Plagg,” he admitted, sitting up straight. His room was in darkness, but the lights of the city shone through, illuminating the little kwami as he floated back beside Adrien.

“I hear a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” Plagg sighed. “Is it about your promise?”

“Well yeah partly,” Adrien replied, “But it’s more than that. I don’t want to give up fighting against the corruption in this city. Fighting crime is good too, but when people like my own father can get away with exploiting their workers- people in jobs still going hungry, all the rich people buying properties when there’s so much homelessness…they can’t be allowed to get away with it. They have to feel some sort of justice.”

He hadn’t always known how cruel people in his social circle could be, not since his childhood friend Chloe had pointed out that her father had happily accepted bribe from businesses in the past, in order to fund his political career. Adrien had been shocked by that. But what had truly taken him down the rabbit hole was learning how his own father paid and treated his employees, when one such employee quit his job and left a furious rant on Twitter that went viral.

And looking in to all of these cases of corruption, of irresponsibility and greed, it all seemed so unfair. Most of the time, rich criminals got away with a slap on the wrist. It wasn’t right, and Adrien felt like he had to do something about it.

He’d made a promise to not get involved in crime fighting. He hadn’t made any sorts of promises about _becoming_ a criminal to fight crime. It was a loophole, yes, but it was a good one. The only danger in stealing the odd famous painting or vase, or even car, was in the possibly of getting caught.

And maybe the occasional guard dog.

Ladybug had never been able to find enough evidence to link him and his true identity. At least, that’s what he thought was the reason why she’d never turned him in.

Still, his path had taken him one way, and hers had taken another. Marinette thought he was a hypocrite and sometimes he had to admit that he was, and her strong moral compass meant she’d never think what he was doing was right.

“So, you’re afraid Ladybug won’t want to work with you if you keep up the whole Robin Hood act,” Plagg got straight to the point. “Well why don’t you stop?”

“Because!” Adrien cried, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “They should get some form of punishment, right? Criminals shouldn’t get to walk around free whilst their victims are driven to homeless shelters or food banks!”

But, if he was being honest with himself, he knew that wasn’t the true reason.

Yes, he was worried that he was the only one punishing the wealthy criminals and if he stopped, they’d continue to get away with things.

But the other reason? The one which made him flop forwards, cuddling his knees to his chest as a heavy weight settled in his lungs? That was the one that haunted him.

He’d turned his back on Ladybug due to the promise he’d made. He’d tried to find a different way to fight for his right to keep the miraculous, to help people. If he gave up his Robin Hood act now, then what were all those years of rivalry for? What if he’d wasted years going against Ladybug when he should have been helping her the whole time, despite the promise?

Tonight, had been a wake-up call, a heady dose of realism for him as he became a rich kid subject to a robbery for a change. The fear he’d felt for himself, and the hostages, as then men marched in, guns blazing, had been something he’d never experienced before. It rocked him to his core. But not only that, realising that Ladybug had had to fight people like that alone for so long…

His guilt was a tsunami- the past few years of which had been the waves pulling further and further out- and he had been an island. Adrien knew the tide would eventually come back as a monstrous wave, crashing against all of his long-held convictions until he drowned amidst a cataclysm of his own making.

“Suit yourself,” Plagg shrugged. “But you know the longer you fight against her, the worse it’ll get, right? Ladybug and Chat Noir, they’re two sides of the same coin. You may have different methods, but that doesn’t mean you should work against each other. It’s not meant to be like this.”

“Well what am I meant to do? Marinette has made it perfectly clear that she hates me, and I’m not exactly her biggest fan either,” Adrien pouted, flopping backwards and staring at the ceiling. True Marinette was much more open in her animosity towards him, but he couldn’t deny how… annoying she was at times. Too stubborn and hard headed. It was maddening. “She drives me crazy.”

“Yeah, a lot of the funniest ones start that way.” For some baffling reason, Plagg was chuckling.

“Funniest ones?” Adrien knew he was being baited, but couldn’t help asking.

“Don’t worry about it,” Plagg waved a paw dismissively. “You’ll know when it happens. And I’ll get to say _‘I told you so’_, which is my favourite phrase except for _‘I brought cheese.’_ Speaking of which, I’m hungry.”

With that, the kwami left Adrien to his conflicted thoughts.

After what seemed like a night of tossing and turning, with little rest, he’d come up with a few conclusions.

The first of which was that he’d broken his promise tonight, and that killed him.

The second, was that he’d enjoyed every single second.

And the third?

He wanted to do it again. He wanted to work with her. Now that he knew what she had to face on her own, and how he should have been fighting with her all along, meant that the want went beyond a mere desire. It was a need, an itching in his very soul.

But would she accept that? Would she accept him? Would the public?

Adrien steeled himself. He knew what he had to do.

The next time he saw Marinette, he would have to talk to her.

* * *

“Can you believe it?!”

“Do you think they’ll work together from now on?”

“Wait does that mean Ladybug and Chat Noir are going to rob the president?”

“Why the hell would they do that?”

“There’s nobody more corrupt than a politician! It could happen!”

What Adrien hadn’t accounted for until the very last moment, was just how much of a frenzy his team up with Ladybug would create.

It was the talk of the school. Everywhere he went, people were whispering conspiracy theories or shrieking about how cool they’d looked in the video a hostage had uploaded to the internet.

Then there was the third kind of gossip gang.

“So, do you think they’ll finally get their smooch on?”

“KIM!”

“Come oooon we’re all thinking it!”

Adrien about-turned from his classmates, fighting the urge to stick his fingers in his ears and start singing at the top of his lungs. _Nope_. He definitely hadn’t heard that. No. Definitely not.

Through the chaos in the entrance halls, at last, he spotted Marinette talking with Alya. Making a beeline for them, he noticed that Alya had her phone out and was gesturing wildly.

It looked like neither of them were going to escape the gossip.

“It’s SO COOL!” Alya was finishing her sentence by the time Adrien approached. Her eyes briefly flicked to him in recognition as he came to stand behind Marinette. “Do you think they’ll work together from now on or not? There’s a betting pool going on and I’m adding to the ‘new partners’ side.”

Adrien’s fingers clenched around his schoolbag.

“Eh,” Marinette shrugged. “I’m not so sure. I wouldn’t expect it to happen again.”

“Why not?” Adrien blurted out before he could stop himself. His heart dropped like a stone.

He missed the way Marinette’s eyes widened, how her breath hitched as she spun around to face him.

Their eyes met.

And maybe it was the eternal optimism Adrien carried in his heart, maybe it was blind hope, maybe he was being stupid, but he could have sworn there was brief softening in Marinette’s gaze. The look was gone before he had a chance to properly check if it was real as the corner of her mouth tugged in a grimace, her nose wrinkling. She looked so tired. Had she always looked that tired? Was it because she’d been overworked, having to take on all the burden of crime fighting alone, without him?

“Well, I mean,” she said, cautious, as though she was getting ready for a fight. “Chat Noir is still a criminal right? It was just a fluke, that one time? He’ll leave her again…won’t he?”

Something about the fragility in her tone, the layers of past pain covered up by stone slabs of reservation, shattered Adrien’s heart. He’d never heard her so vulnerable, and every instinct inside of him was telling him _to fix it, fix it now!_

His hands fell limply to his side, his mouth parted, but nothing came out.

Acceptance crossed Marinette’s features and she nodded. Adrien’s insides turned to ice and time slowed down as she gestured to Alya to follow her to their first class.

_No, no, no this is wrong,_ Adrien thought, his mind screaming at him. Even as he stood rooted to the spot watching her walk away from him, _this is all wrong,_

“Wait!”

Rushing to catch up with the pair, Adrien reached out and grabbed Marinette’s arm. When she froze, he immediately pulled back, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “I need to talk to you.”

“Meet you in class!” Alya said and rushed away. It was the fastest he’d ever seen her move.

Marinette glared at her friend’s retreating back before glancing up at him suspiciously. “What do you want?”

Spurred by the lack of bite in her voice, Adrien ushered her into a quieter corner of the hallway. “About us, about- last night-”

Marinette leapt forwards, shushing him as she pressed a finger to his lips. Heat immediately burst on Adrien’s cheeks, and he fell silent. When she was certain that he wouldn’t say anything else, she dropped her finger and hissed. “We can’t do this right now, out here, anyone could be eavesdropping.”

“Then meet me tonight?” he asked, pressing forwards, his heart doing somersaults. He had to try, he had to keep trying. “Please? I know you felt it too, what happened with us. We have to talk about it.”

Marinette refused to meet his eyes, ducking her head low. She bit her lip.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” she began to back away. “I have to think. I’m sorry.”

She ran off, leaving Adrien alone. The warm lantern of hope flickered in his chest, almost going out completely. The idea of crossing the bridge, of knocking down the wall they’d built between them, seemed almost impossible.

He breathed like an injured man, deep through the nose, and ran his hands down his face. It hurt. It hurt to know that this was what he’d come to reap. He had sown the seeds of this situation years ago, in his decision to keep his promise to another he’d loved so dearly.

With every passing hour, every class he only half paid attention to, Adrien’s mood darkened. Nino, noticing his friend’s gloomy demeanour, tried to cheer him up on the way to get lunch, but nothing worked.

“She’s always going to hate me, isn’t she Plagg?” Adrien whispered later on, sat in a lonely chair in the manor’s equally lonely dining room. The sound of his fork hitting the plate of untouched food in front of him echoed in the silence.

“Who knows?” Plagg said, munching on some cheese beside him, and didn’t care to elaborate further than that.

Adrien sighed, resting his cheek on his hand, elbow on the table.

Then his phone buzzed.

** _Got your number from Nino. Meet me on the roof of the Eglise de la Sainte Trinité at midnight- Marinette_ **

* * *

Chat Noir arrived at the roof of the nineteenth century church with half an hour to spare. It was a brisk night. The wind ruffled his hair and clouds covered the sky. Orange streetlights glowed and cars drove down the eerie streets in a languid, less chaotic manner than usual. Midnight in Paris was always a strange time, it never seemed quite real.

Chat slunk back, away from the lights so as not to get spotted. He sat against the slanted roof, staring into the blackened windows of the office buildings opposite him, wondering if Ladybug would show up at midnight exactly or if she’d be early. She seemed like the type to be early.

A wild thought entered his mind. Should he have brought something? Flowers? Chocolates? An _‘I’m sorry I turned my back on our superhero destiny and became an anti-hero’ _card? As soon as the thought came, he dismissed it. For god’s sake! It wasn’t like this was a date.

Fifteen minutes later, Chat heard the distinct thump on the other side of the roof, followed by the unmistakable sound of Ladybug’s yo-yo retracting. He smiled to himself, even as fear held his throat in a vice-like grip. She was the type to be early. He’d been right about something about her!

Crawling up the slanted ledge, he hopped over the top and looked down.

There she was, scanning the horizon for him. The light caught her braided hair, her silhouette proud and steel-like. It seemed like she was bracing herself for the encounter, trying to be strong. Warmth filled him at the sight of it. She was always strong.

“Evenin’ Bugaboo!” He called, leaping down beside her with a heavy thud. This was easy, just playfully banter with her and gently nudge things into more serious territory. That was the plan.

Ladybug jumped, almost slipping off the roof with a shriek. Chat Noir surged forwards, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close to his chest to stop her from plummeting. He cringed inwardly. Not the best of starts.

As soon as the shock settled, he noticed how close they were. About a second later, so did she.

The energy from last night returned as a quiet, cautious thrum of _something_, churning back and forth between them like the push-and-pull of a tide.

He wanted to make a joke about it, some sort of pun about her falling for him, but it didn’t feel right. Not with whatever it was between them that kept his mouth closed, his heart yearning for something he didn’t understand. Not with the way he wanted to pull her closer.

She coughed, glancing at her feet, and he let her go with a sheepish laugh. The moment passed. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s ok,” she whispered back, shy.

The night before had been so different- all fire and anger and accusations, followed by action and drama and conflict in more ways than one.

Now, as they stood before each other, with three years of everything between them, all was quiet.

Chat Noir scratched the back of his head. “Thanks,” he said. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me I mean.”

“Oh. Right. It’s a problem. I mean it’s no problem,” Ladybug huffed, stumbling over her words. “It’s no problem at all.”

She frowned, more at herself than anything, and Chat Noir held down the urge to laugh. _Cute._

“I wanted to tell you something,” Chat said, gesturing for her to sit.

They sat side-by-side, looking out at a city both of them had sworn to protect.

Chat Noir stared at his lap, clenching his fists. This was it. This was the moment he’d been readying himself for all day.

“There’s a reason I couldn’t work with you, and I know it’ll sound ridiculous out loud and it won’t seem like a real reason to anyone but me, but I had to tell you, before I ask something else of you. I had to get it off my chest because you deserve to know,” he sucked a breath in through his teeth, his jaw felt tight, as though his muscles were fighting against his confession. “The reason why I wouldn’t fight with you is because I promised my mother I wouldn’t,” he confessed.

There was silence for a long while, and Chat dreaded her reaction more and more with every passing moment. Why was she quiet?

“My mother… she was a superhero too,” he went on, filling the silence with a rapidly growing sense of desperation. “Years ago, before she had me, before she even married my father, she had a miraculous. I didn’t find out about until years later. When she was- when she was dying.”

Ladybug winced beside him.

“It was partly complications from a fight with some bad guys that lead to her health problems later on, and her eventual…passing.” It still hurt to say. Even five years after his mother died, it seemed so final. “Her miraculous got damaged in a fight, so she made me promise that if I ever got a miraculous for myself, that I’d give it back, that I wouldn’t use it to fight crime or get myself into danger. That’s why I never- that’s why I couldn’t work with you.”

Another long pause, but Chat couldn’t blame her for that. Instead, he spent the time in the quiet. Taking a deep breath and trying to rid himself of the tears stinging the corner of his eyes, he stared up at the sky. He did that a lot, whenever he thought of her. He’d hardly ever had a chance to speak about her. His father never wanted to.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ladybug asked, gentle and non-accusing. “All this time, I never knew. It would have helped me understand a bit more.”

Now it was Chat’s turn to wince.

“I didn’t tell you the first time we met because I’d already decided to hand the miraculous back,” he said. “I wanted to work with you, so badly, but I couldn’t. If I gave up on the promise to maman, I’d be giving up on her memory. So, I went to the guardian to give it back, and he explained there were other ways I could use my miraculous to fight the imbalance in the city. That’s how I came up with my Robin Hood idea.”

“Master Fu gave you the idea?!” Ladybug’s jaw dropped, she leaned back incredulously.

“Well, no he didn’t give me the Robin Hood idea, but he helped me realise there could be a different approach. But you hated my idea so much and I knew I could never work with you, so I kept my distance.”

Ladybug got to her feet, pacing back and forth across the rooftop, trying to process the information. After a few moments, she stopped.

“Why are you telling me this now?” she frowned again, but remained gentle, trying to figure things out. “If you have to keep your promise to your mother, why bother explaining? I’m a little lost.”

It was then that Chat Noir rose to his feet, on shaking legs he approached her, crossing the three years of animosity between them.

“I am too,” Chat admitted. “Even as I fight my own guilt at breaking my promise to maman, I couldn’t help but realise last night, that I should have been fighting with you this whole time. Rather than against you. No matter my reasons, I turned my back on this partnership first and for that I’m sorry. Could I… Could I work with you from this moment on?”

Ladybug let out a long breath, wrapping her arms around herself. She stared out at the city before meeting his eyes again.

“Well,” she began measuredly, “It’s not like I’ve been completely innocent either. Yeah, I mean, you hurt me. I had my own doubts about becoming a superhero, and my own partner didn’t want to work with me. I thought there was something wrong with me at first.”

“No!” Chat surprised himself with his cry, leaning forwards and placing both hands on her shoulders. “That’s not true at all. You’re amazing! You’ve helped so many people. You make a difference.”

Ladybug did something then that she’d only done a handful of times, she smiled at him. Suddenly bashful she looked away, and touching her brought all of those _right_ feelings back. He wondered if she felt it too. He was certain she did.

“Well, sure, I know that now. But three years ago? I didn’t believe I could make a difference, especially after you said you couldn’t work with me. I almost gave up my own miraculous. Still, I was angry and hurt. I wanted to hate you. So, I lashed out and judged you, so many times. I’ve said some cruel things to you in the heat of the moment. For that, _I’m_ sorry. I promised Alya that I’d give you a chance, or that I’d at least be nicer to you.”

Chat Noir grinned, taking his hands off her shoulders (he didn’t want things to get awkward). “So, do you think we could try? Working together?”

Ladybug’s face fell and Chat braced himself for the stabbing pain of rejection. “Are you going to keep stealing from rich people?”

Ah. That was the awkward part. “I’m…not sure,” he said. “If I stop, who will bring these people to justice?”

“I don’t know,” she said and Chat was surprised at her honesty. “I’m not blind to the injustices of the world, Chat. I know that there are different rules for rich people.”

“Not all rich people,” Chat grinned, trying to lighten the situation.

“You steal from people,” she shot back, without any venom to it. Her eyes sparked with a challenge and oh, Chat could get used to this. “How does that not count as different rules for the rich?”

“Fair point,” he conceded. “Maybe I should work on stealing hearts instead?”

He waggled his eyebrows, leaning down at the waist in a kind of bow.

And that was the first time he made Ladybug laugh. A beautiful, harmonious sound that struck at the very centre of him, made the growing sense of rightness bloom evermore. He chuckled back.

“Yeah, sure,” she rolled her eyes, booping him on the nose. “Well you won’t steal mine, so keep that power to yourself.”

He put his hand on his heart in a solemn vow. They both giggled, and it felt weird and perfect at the same time.

“What if we spoke to Master Fu? Like you did all those years ago?” Ladybug suggested. “Maybe we can work something out. Because, whether my pride takes a hit from this or not, the city isn’t getting much better with us working apart. Tikki- my kwami- says we need to work together in order to achieve balance. I didn’t want to hear it until last night, after you shielded me from those bullets.”

Chat Noir smiled. The cautious, awkward air between them felt as delicate as a freshly grown rose. They’d both need to handle it with care.

“I… can’t promise this is going to be easy for me,” Ladybug sighed, playing with her braid. “Logically? I get your reasons for not working with me now. Emotionally though, it’s been three years of me feeling like you turned your back on me. I can’t undo that hurt in one night, I can’t fully trust that it won’t happen again.”

“I understand,” Chat Noir nodded. “We’ll take it as slowly as you want. We don’t even have to hang out in school, you can just- I don’t know- text me or something. If you want to talk. And we can arrange for a time to speak with Fu.”

“I’d like that,” Ladybug nodded.

Later that night, Adrien sprawled out on his bed, thinking of his encounter with Ladybug for the second night running.

He wondered lots of things; if the public would accept him as a fully-fledged superhero (he was a rather controversial person to say the least, people tended to either love him or completely hate him). He wondered if Master Fu would be able to figure out how they could move forward.

He wondered if his mother would ever forgive him for breaking his promise, if she was looking at him from beyond the grave, believing he was as big of a disappointment as his father thought he was.

But all of that was muted, pretty much silenced completely, when he thought of Ladybug’s laughter, her smiling at him, her bouts of bashfulness. The thought of her calmed all of those worries inside him, and he couldn’t wait to fight with her again, to see her tomorrow at school.

He jerked upright, startling Plagg awake. He ignored the kwami’s cursing as heat spread across his face, thinking of Ladybug laughing at his jokes, the way she’d booped his nose, the little crinkle in her forehead when she was frustrated at herself. The way she kind-of fake flirted back with him, after he’d been jokingly flirting with her for years.

Oh. It wasn’t a joke anymore.

_Oh._

_Oh no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, come yell at me [On Tumblr](http://midnightstarlightwrites.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely notes and comments on this fic so far! It really helps inspire me!

_ One Year Ago _

  
“Give it back.”

Ladybug retracted her yo-yo from where she struck it, at the wall just above Chat Noir’s head. A warning strike. She would aim true next time.

Even with the night sky dark above them, the low light coming off the old mansion in the near background, Chat’s cocky grin shone bright. Suddenly, Ladybug wished she’d just gone ahead and hit him, gotten this over and done with.

But no. She always had to be nice. Give people a chance.

Now she had to actually put up with the torture of him talking.

“Give what back, Purr-incess?” he pouted, a vision of an innocence. He raised his hands in mock-surrender. “I didn’t take _anything_.”

Her blood pressure was rising with every syllable and she scowled. “I saw you take the watch from Monsieur Smith’s vault. Give it back or I’ll take it back.”

“Monsieur Smith just got a slap on the wrist and a meaningless fine after a huge case of harassment against his female staffers,” Chat frowned, looking convincingly perplexed. “Why would you defend him?”

“I’m not defending him!” Ladybug huffed, stomping forwards and poking him in the chest. She was so sick of having this argument. “I think he’s reprehensible.”

Chat’s smirk was back at that and, in a strange way, Ladybug felt a sense of relief. It always felt weird when he was more self-righteous than she was. Even she could admit that to herself (though never to him). “Well then, what’s the problem here? He never wears this watch. It’s worth something obscene. I’m just going to sell it on and give the money to his victims,” he dropped his head low, batting his eyelashes at her. “Where’s the harm in that?”

“Don’t,” she growled, prodding him in the chest again. “Don’t you even think about giving me that pretty-boy look. You’re not thinking it through, as usual. So you give them money, and the victims experience justice for a little bit. That’s all well and good. But what about when the police go looking for people who have motives, who get suspicious when large sums of money enter their accounts? And will this really change Monsieur Smith’s mind- or do you think he’ll keep going now his company is going full damage-control? This will be next weeks news soon. Chat. This isn’t helping.”

Chat wrapped his hand around the finger she held against his chest. For a second, Ladybug’s breath caught. He leaned forwards, his face deadly serious…

“You think my eyes are pretty?”

And just like that, the arrogant smile appeared again. Only now it was twice as obnoxious. Ladybug wanted to scream. “You know I’m going to actually kill you one of these days right? I’m actually going to kill you. You will annoy me to the point of murder.”

“And it’ll be a great way to go,” Chat chuckled, his so-called pretty eyes lighting up. “Oh! Promise to crush me with your thighs?”

“SHUT. UP.” Ladybug wrenched her finger away from him. Her face burst into colour despite the night time chill. “Crush me with your thighs? Really? How is that any better than the awful things Monsieur Smith used to text his staff? Why are you always such a hypocrite? And stop changing the subject. You know I’m right. That’s _why_ you keep changing the subject.”

“Well what else are we meant to do for these victims?” Chat sighed, sounding as fed up with the constant butting-of-heads as she was. Ladybug’s stomach flipped at the idea, before she squashed the feeling flat. Chat Noir was not to be trusted. Chat Noir was never to be trusted.

“Not this,” Ladybug shook her head, rubbing her forehead in frustration. “You’re trying to bandage a gushing wound that needs medical attention, stitches, the works.”

“SO WHY DON’T WE WORK TO”- Chat exploded, his arms waving along with his outburst, before his jaw snapped shut and he turned around, turned his back on her.

Ladybug’s heart was racing. Her fingers twitched. She reached forwards, towards him, without even thinking about it.

Did he-

Did he want to work with her?

That was when she realised, he’d said _“we”_ not _“I.”_

But it wasn’t possible. He’d turned his back on her, he’d committed to this life of crime. Would he really want to join her again? More than that- did she want him to?

Before she could reach for him, before she’d even realised she started doing so, Chat Noir stepped back. After the last syllable dropped from his lips, he hadn’t raised his head to look at her, choosing instead to stare at his feet.

A rustling sound, expensive metal tapping, and Chat Noir brandished the stolen watch from her. “Take it.”

Ladybug was at a complete loss. “What?”

“Will you take it already? Stop questioning every little thing I do ok? Here,” he thrust it out towards her, still not meeting her eyes. “Take it. You win this round. I just want to go home. I have a big shoot tomorrow and I’m tired.”

It didn’t take a genius to work out that Chat was lying through his teeth. Even with their biggest arguments, their most frustrating fights, he hardly ever talked so sharply with her.

Not wanting to argue further, she took the watch from his hands. Without another word, Chat’s lip curled up into a silent snarl and he leapt upwards, onto the roof of the mansion and out of sight and leaving Ladybug alone.

Again.

A short while later, Ladybug handed the watch to its rightful owner. In exchange Monsieur Smith asked for her number, and doubled down when she confirmed that she was younger than his granddaughter. She left the conversation feeling like a thousand showers wouldn’t be enough, wishing that she’d broken the stupid watch on his ugly forehead.

And not for the millionth time, she felt caught between one bad guy and another. At least where Chat Noir was concerned. Her usual work, the work they should have been doing together, was so black and white. So easy. Robbers, murderers, the ever-growing gang wars, all of that was so much simpler than all of this.

But Chat Noir had a way of making her feel like she was choosing the bad guys, that she was on Monsieur Smith’s side when that couldn’t be further from the truth.

She had to deal with all criminals, Chat Noir included. It just so happened the ones Chat Noir targeted for his own crimes, were the types of criminals she had the least amount of sway over, justice-wise.

The whole thing just felt…

Out of balance.

She knew why. Of course, she knew why. It was because they were working against each other. The two sides of the same coin were somehow at war, and when that happened, the coin had no value.

But there was no fixing it. They disagreed so fundamentally over this, they argued every time they were together. They were a broken Ladybug and Chat Noir. Utterly irreparable.

And sometimes, in her most vulnerable moments, Ladybug allowed herself to soak in the awful tragedy of the whole thing.

They would never be a team. Ever.

And that was that.

* * *

_   
Present Day  
_

  
Marinette fiddled with the straps of her school bag, staring at herself in the mirror without really seeing a reflection. Trapped in her own thoughts, her vision faded into a soft blur at the edges.

It was raining again. Big fat droplets smattered against her windows and she sighed. The weather continued to match her mood.

“What’s wrong? You’re going to be late for school,” Tikki asked, coming to sit against her shoulder and watching Marinette’s reflection with no small amount of concern.

Marinette huffed, looking at the bags under her eyes. She’d been up all night, remembering all of her past interactions with Chat Noir with new focus. When she gave up on sleep entirely, she spent the rest of the night researching the last generation of heroes, asking Tikki questions about the damaged Peacock miraculous, corroborating Adrien’s story. He’d been telling the truth of course; she knew he wouldn’t lie about something as important as his mother’s passing. But it was reassuring to hear from another source.

It made things clearer, and yet at the same time even more muddled.

Sensing her distress, Tikki gave her a friendly nudge. “You’re doing a wonderful thing, crossing this bridge with Adrien. But you don’t have to rush anything. You can go at your own pace. It might take a while for your heart to catch up to the things your mind has recently learned, and that’s ok.”

Marinette kissed her kwami on top of her tiny head, comforted by such encouraging words.

“And we’ll speak to Fu after school today. We’ll figure this out,” Marinette added with a resolute nod. Earlier that morning, she’d texted Adrien to ask if he was free to speak to Fu and, luckily, he had a rare clear afternoon for a change.

“That’s the spirit!” Tikki cheered.

Marinette’s phone beeped and pulling it out, she saw that Adrien had text her again.

** _Make sure you bring an umbrella today! It’s raining me and dogs!_ **

Despite herself, she chuckled. A second later, her phone beeped with yet another text from him.

** _Ok that was dumb, ignore that. But definitely bring an umbrella ok?_ **

With a click of her tongue, she texted back a quick response and turned towards her closet, rummaging in the back, where all of the lost and buried memories were kept.

She knew exactly what umbrella she’d bring.

* * *

As the rain was still falling by the time morning break came around, most of the students were spending time hanging out in a few of the classrooms.

Marinette spotted him at the back of the class. Taking a deep breath, she steeled her nerves. With Tikki giving an encouraging wave from the small gap in her bag, she walked forwards, sliding on the bench next to him.

To say Adrien looked shocked was an understatement.

“Hi,” she said, hating how shy she sounded.

“Hi,” he responded in kind and it was a relief to find that he seemed just as nervous as she was. Memories from the night before came flooding back to her mind, the tentative first steps, and she reminded herself that if they were going to work together, then they would need to take measures to fix all the sides of the partnership. Adrien pointed out the window. “Great weather huh?”

“Yeah.”

Was there a cricket in the room? Aside from the low hum of her classmates’ chattering, Marinette could have sworn there was a cricket. Or maybe it was because she’d been mentally trained, by Saturday morning cartoons, to expect cricket chirps during awkward conversational pauses. Hell, she was half expecting a tumbleweed to come along and smack her in the face.

It wouldn’t be the strangest thing that happened to her.

She fiddled with her hair, huffing again. It shouldn’t be this hard to not fight with him, right? But she reminded herself that there were a number of years’ worth of arguing and misunderstandings to undo, and Tikki’s voice rang in her head. _Take things slow._

“So how comes you’re free this afternoon? It’s not like you, right? You’re usually pretty busy. Nino told me,” she added hurriedly, not wanting him to think she knew anything about him that she shouldn’t.

For what it was worth, Adrien didn’t appear to think her question was strange. A little bit of tension dissipated from Marinette’s shoulders when he replied. “You’re right. I usually have piano after school but my Teacher is on holiday. Plus because of the rain, one of my photoshoots keeps getting rescheduled.”

“That’s annoying,” Marinette sympathised, not really knowing if it was a good thing or a bad thing- for Adrien at least.

“I guess so, yeah,” Adrien agreed, leaning up and stretching. His t-shirt rode up and a little bit of his toned stomach was revealed. Marinette refused to stare. She _refused_. “Although I have to admit, it’s nice to be able to relax for a change. To have a free afternoon that wasn’t scheduled? It’s crazy!”

Marinette’s face fell. “Oh. I’m sorry, and I’m making you come to Fu’s with me instead of doing something you really wanted to do…”

Adrien immediately pulled himself out of his stretch, surging closer towards her. “No!” he cried. “No, no, that’s not what I meant at all! I want to come with you today. I want to be with yo- It would be good to spend time- time with you, you know? This is important. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Blinking a few times, Marinette licked her lips, which had suddenly gone rather dry. She missed the way his eyes darted down to her mouth at the action. “Well, I guess if you’re happy with it”-

\- “I am,” Adrien replied vehemently. “I really am.”

“Great,” she said.

“Great,” Adrien grinned.

The feeling of running out of things to say crept up on her again, only this time Marinette wouldn’t let them descend into that awkward silence.

“Oh and by the way, I’ll have to know I _did_ remember an umbrella today,” she poked her tongue out at him. Teasing, being playfully argumentative. That was comfortable. They’d spent so long butting heads that doing so in a more light-hearted manner was like putting a new cover on an old cushion. New but old. In a good way. Pulling up the black umbrella, she wiped a few raindrops from it and flicked them at his face. “So, ha!”

She thought he would roll his eyes, wittily banter back in that infuriating way he often did, catch on to the new dance she’d started. But Adrien’s focus was burning a hole into the umbrella. His mouth dropped open softly.

“You kept that all this time?” he whispered, reaching out to brush his fingers against the umbrella he’d once given her, a few days after they’d first met.

Marinette shrugged. “Shoved at the back of the cupboard. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away,” shifting uncomfortably, she stared down at the desk instead. Still, she tried to make light of the situation. “It’s something you gave as opposed to stealing. I figured it was like a rare video game object.”

A gentle weight settled on her hand. Adrien’s hand had come to rest on top of it.

Her head snapped up and she froze under the warmth of Adrien’s gaze.

For a second, just a second, the whole world melted away. Marinette wondered why she felt like she was going to be sick, but didn’t mind one bit. It was a good kind of nauseated- if such a thing existed. Which it must, because it was what she currently felt.

Her head swam.

He was looking at her as he’d looked at her then. Long ago, before the storm clouds had blocked out the light of their budding friendship, before things had become so damned _complicated_.

And when he smiled at her, she felt the beginnings of the sun beginning to shine through again.

But then his face fell, his cheeks turned red and he yanked his hand away from hers, sliding away from her. Creating distance. Coughing awkwardly, he looked away. “Sorry.”

Her first instinct was to ask why he was sorry, but she thought better of it. “It’s ok,” she replied, and they were back to being shy again.

Somewhere close to them, the sound of a phone camera went off. Alya had snuck into their conversation, unbeknownst to either of them.

In fact, it became painfully obvious that their classmates had stopped chatting to each other during hers and Adrien’s low conversation. Luckily none of them were in earshot to hear them talking about going to Fu’s later. In hindsight, this was not a good place to talk of such things, Marinette mused.

Regardless of whether they could hear or not, their classmates had chosen to turn towards the utterly strange sight of the two of them actually being- well- _nice_ to each other. Even more bizarre, having actual physical contact that wasn’t violent. Granted they’d never been actually violent towards each other, even Chat had never once struck her, his actions had always been defensive as she’d fought to tackle him enough to get back whatever object he’d stolen.

But there had been suspicions that one day Marinette would snap, years ago, before they’d given up on arguing in public and taken to avoiding each other completely in their civilian alter egos.

Marinette shrank under the scrutiny, internally screaming. She was not looking forward to the questions.

But luckily, she was saved by the bell. Getting ahead of everyone, she grabbed her bag and ran off without another word.

She left the umbrella behind.

* * *

“Sorry, I can’t hang out,” Marinette turned off the girls’ bathroom sink, making her way to the hand driers and, growing impatient with the pitiful puff of warm air, wiping her hands dry on her jeans instead. “I have plans I can’t change. It’s an important meeting.”

Alya hummed, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow at her. “Right. And the fact that Adrien is suddenly busy after school too after having a miraculously free day AND after you two were caught getting cosy? Those two things are completely unrelated? Uh-huh.”

Marinette laughed nervously, exiting the bathroom with Alya swiftly on her heels. She always hated lying, but to her best friend especially so. “Adrien is always busy.”

“Ah-ha!” Alya snapped her fingers. “So you admit it. You know his schedule.”

“No I don’t know his schedule. Do you think I’m crazy or something?” she chuckled; the very notion ridiculous to her. “Especially as it’s someone I hate- I mean used to hate? I don’t know. I’m just trying to make nice since you asked me to and all. That’s all.”

“Personal growth. I dig it,” Alya said sagely, placing her hands behind her back as they neared the entrance of the school. “Well I promised I wouldn’t prod you about this, and I’m a woman of her word. I’ll simply say I’m proud of you, girl.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Marinette gave a weak shrug and the pair headed towards the entrance of the school in comfortable silence.

“Will the freaking rain ever stop?” Alya cried, pulling on an unfashionable waterproof jacket and tugging the hood up over head. When Marinette laughed at how little of her face she could see, Alya elbowed her in the side. “Don’t laugh, you know how long it takes for me to do my hair?!”

“An hour and fourty-three minutes,” Marinette parroted back, with a monotonous tone that came with years of practice.

“AN HOUR AND FOURTY-THREE MINUTES!” Alya replied. “I don’t care how dumb I look. This head is staying DRY. You going to be ok getting to your-ahem- _plans?_”

Marinette poked Alya’s nose, the only part of her she could still see except her glasses. “Just plans, not _ahem plans_. And I’ll be fine. I have my umbrella.”

With a final teasing goodbye, Alya fled down the steps towards the nearest metro station squealing all the way, whilst Marinette searched her bag for the umbrella.

Only to find it wasn’t there.

“Oh come on noooo,” Marinette rummaged again, frantically, as though looking twice might make the umbrella appear again.

“It’s not here Marinette. What are you going to do?” Tikki said.

Marinette paused for a moment, biting her lip and staring up at the dark sky with a sigh. She looked behind her, as though she was expecting someone. But that was just a memory. In this instance, history wouldn’t repeat itself. Besides, they’d agreed to meet at Fu’s to not arouse suspicion.

“I guess I’ll just have to run,” she said, tugging her coat around herself. Wool, with a fur trim. No hood. Completely the opposite of Alya’s jacket. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“What?! Marinette you’ll catch your death! You’ll”- Tikki was panicking, but Marinette closed her bag, promptly stopping the lecture.

“Keep dry Tikki!” she cried, tucking her long hair into her collar and running headfirst into the storm.

The rain pelted her instantly. By the time she’d made it down the steps, her shoes were soaked through. By the time she’d run across the street, her hair was plastered to her head.

She rounded a corner, splashing in puddles, one sodden arm covering her as the rain somehow fell even harder, in great sheets, so she could barely see anything. Cars slowed down to a crawl, turning on their lights.

Was there such a thing as a monsoon in Paris?

It was as she was crossing another street that a car horn suddenly blared, tyres screeched, and her heart leapt into her chest. She flinched, not even having enough time to scream, bracing for the impact…

The car stopped inches in front of her.

Blinded by the car lights, she raised her hand apologetically to the car and hurried to the other side of the road. Wanting to get as far away from herself and the danger as possible, she didn’t spot a passenger getting out of the car until they called out her name.

“Marinette!”

Turning around, she came face to face with Adrien. The raindrops stopped their relentless attack as he shielded them both with their umbrella.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere! I couldn’t let you travel to Fu’s by yourself in this weather. But by the time I got out of class, Alex told me she saw you leave school already.”

Marinette couldn’t say anything. She could only stare up at him as though he were a dream suddenly made real. Something shifted, something strange and deep inside her, and whilst she was cold and wet, her insides were lit by a gentle fire. Comfort. The rain fell around them, but she was out of the storm now. She’d been alone and now she wasn’t anymore. _He’s here, he’s here, he’s here._

“Are you ok?” Adrien replied, worried. “I’m sorry, god, we almost hit you and you’re soaking wet and you’re not saying anything. Are you in shock? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. You took your time, getting here,” she whispered, looking up at the inside of the umbrella, the way it protected her from the rain. She smiled. “But you got here in the end. That’s what matters right?”

Adrien’s mouth opened, the sounds of rainfall silenced around them, even though the storm wasn’t stopping. “I…”

A car horn blared again and both of them jumped. Paris being a city, it hadn’t taken long for a small queue of motorists to start forming behind them. They were growing impatient.

Without thinking, Adrien took her hand, guiding her back to the car “Come on.”

He opened the door for her, letting her in, before darting behind the car and waving apologetically at the still beeping vehicles behind him. Briefly, Marinette was left alone with Adrien’s driver, a huge hulking figure of a man. To be honest, she wasn’t sure if he was a driver so much as a bodyguard.

The driver/bodyguard glanced at her in the rear-view mirror, a low non-threatening grunt of acknowledgement emitting from his thin lips.

Marinette giggled sheepishly, wiggling her fingers in a little wave. “Hello- um. Sorry about running in front of your car. I didn’t see you. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Ah, don’t mind Gorilla,” Adrien replied, closing the door and umbrella behind him as he settled beside her. “You just spooked him a bit. But it’s all good, right?”

With another grunt, Gorilla began driving away.

It was only then Marinette realised she was absolutely sodden, from head-to-toe. Although the car was warm, she began to shiver. Teeth chattering, she wrapped her arms around herself. “In hindsight, this wasn’t one of my better ideas.”

“It is crazy out there,” Adrien agreed, diplomatically. Shrugging out of his considerably drier coat, he handed it to her. “Here- dry yourself off and keep as warm as you can.”

Somehow, despite how cold she was, heat still managed to rise her face. “Oh Adrien, you don’t have to.”

“No- I want to.”

Slowly, she reached out, egged on by his eagerness. Their fingers brushed as she took his coat from him. _Kind, _she thought, _he’s kind. We spent so long fighting that I forgot._

She was about to ask him if he regretted it, all these years of going against each other, but then she felt his hands on her and her brain completely short-circuited.

Running his hands up and down her arms in an attempt to get her warm, Adrien didn’t seem to realise how close they were.

That feeling rose up again in Marinette, that feeling of rightness, of yes this is how it was meant to be. Them. Together. A team. Him looking out for her. Her protecting him in return. Not just as superheroes. This is what it meant. At once it clicked, and it was like a light had been cast on what was once nothing but shadow. It was bigger than them, beyond their squabbles. It was more than that. Finally, she saw the light. She understood what Tikki, what Master Fu, had talked about all this time. What they’d both been so blind to, or too stubborn and prideful to acknowledge.

Her emotions were a torrent, so cautious, so timid, so ready to hide from this- to cling on to past hurts that were still so fresh, so bone deep. All of this was happening so fast and she felt as though, at any moment, she was going to be swept away, like the rainwater gushing down the street, cascading down drainpipes. And yet…

And yet…

He was here. Holding her. Making sure she was ok. Looking out for her. Fixing the lost years between them.

Yes. It was true. Marinette _did_ feel something then, and that something was rather like forgiveness.

“There, all snug as a bug,” Adrien took her coat from her and put it in between them, completely oblivious to her reaction to him. “Do you- are you feeling better?”

“What?” she blurted out stupidly. His coat on her lap brought her back to reality. “Oh! Yes- yes, I’m better. I sure am. Super-duper better thank you! Ha, ha! Snug as a bug- funny.”

Did she hear someone cackling? As she put Adrien’s coat on, something wiggled in the breast pocket. She assumed it was Adrien’s kwami and, after hearing another laugh and mumble from the coat, she was almost certain of the fact.

It was strange, she thought, although she’d known Chat Noir’s identity for years, she’d never really had much conversation with his Kwami. She’d exchanged maybe a sentence or two? She was fairly sure his name was Plagg- or something like it. How strange it was, that she could finally get to know him now. If Adrien was ok with it. This was all still new for him too.

Adrien snorted, scratching the back of his head and bringing Marinette back into the car with him- instead of stuck in her thoughts. “I actually didn’t mean that pun. For a change.”

He flopped backwards in his seat, looking at her and then staring out of the car in what Marinette could only describe was a…bashful manner? After the third time of alternating between the car window and her, Marinette asked, “is everything ok? Have I got panda eyes? I swear my mascara is waterproof.”

“Huh? Oh- no,” Adrien shook his head like a puppy caught doing something it shouldn’t be. He didn’t elaborate further, but turned fully away to stare out of the window, resting his mouth 

against his fist and elbow on the car door, puffing out his cheek until it looked as if he was pouting. His brow furrowed and it was all so unfathomably cute and _oh my god did I SERIOUSLY just think that?_

Suddenly, like the force of a truck hitting her, Alya’s voice rang out in her mind.

_‘Sexual Tension! Sexual Tension! Sexual Tension!’_ Alya’s voice sung, until it was chased out of her brain, screaming, by a giant angry Marinette holding a baseball bat.

“SO!” she yelled, cringing as Adrien started at her increased volume. Adjusting her voice, she added, “So, where are you going today?”

Her mouth and head twitched towards Gorilla, hoping Adrien would get the message. They needed to keep up the charade. If only to make sure their identities weren’t exposed.

Luckily for her, Adrien did cotton on. “I’m going to my acupuncturist. Standing up for hours in different poses and stuff? It can really damage the body if you’re not careful.”

“Huh,” Marinette drawled out. “That’s _such_ a coincidence. I have a massage after school to deal with an old…baking…injury.”

“Baking injury?” Adrien raised his eyebrow, looking like he was about to tease her for her incredibly fake lie, before she lightly kicked him. “Oh yeah, baking injury. Yeah, I get it. With bending down to check on the ovens and the kneading of the dough and stuff? Seems legit.”

“Did you just say legit?” Marinette laughed. “You’re a dork.”

“I am the most _legit_ of dorks,” he replied, laughing as he puffed out his chest. “Anyways, where’s your massage place? I’m sure we can drop you off and make our appointment on time.”

When Marinette told him the address, for what it was worth, he really did make a great show of being shocked that they went to the same place for their treatments. It was easy to go along with him.

Though Marinette doubted they sounded at all convincing, if the grunt from the front of the car was anything to go by. The most amount of emotion coming from Gorilla was exasperation.

Still, she thought as she sat back, letting the seat warmers work their magic, it was nice. Watching Adrien gesticulate wildly about how much fate was at play that she’d run out in front of their car.

And, as their umbrella rested between them, she couldn’t help but feel there was some element of truth in that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Ok so Mari and Adrien really need to take their time, this is all new and they're repairing their partnership
> 
> Mari and Adrien in my head like: WE WANT TO BE IN LOVE RIGHT NOW!
> 
> The struggle is real folks
> 
> come yell at me [On Tumblr](http://midnightstarlightwrites.tumblr.com) hehe!


End file.
